Wolf Pack 2: Mad Wolf Rising
by MadWolfAK74
Summary: With the Skulls destroyed, a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. named Mediator discovers he and the feared Wolf Pack are the targets of a Mercenary group that is hired from outside the Zone. Mediator needs time to think and to do that, he sets of to the Cordon.


Last Quarter of 2014

Somewhere in the Zone

Early Dawn

Rain. There was always rain and sometimes thunder right after an emission. A shadowy figure was crouched under the shelter of a corrugated galvanized roof in a partial demolished building. It was two storeys high, and gave a almost unrestricted view of a nearby road. A scoped assault rifle lay across his lap. The rain didn't bother him too much. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the smell that rain brought; pure and clean. It also somewhat negated the invisibility power of Bloodsuckers, a fact that saved his live once when he prowled through the deserted streets of Pripyat. Rain gave him the peace for inner reflection when it silenced the Voices of the Zone, the voices that were the last echoes of the dead STALKERS that the Zone had claimed. STALKER is an acronym for Scavenger Trader Adventurer Loner Killer Explorer Robber.

He had chosen this spot because it gave him shelter from emissions, a vantage point from which to snipe mutants and hostile STALKERS but also time to think.

A few weeks ago, it became apparent that there was interest in the Wolf Pack from a source that is outside the Zone. The Wolf Pack, a secret group of STALKERS, that ruthlessly hunt down and kill bandits, mercenaries and the dreaded Monolith group. As Mediator, as he was known, he is one of the few STALKERs that was on somewhat easy communication with the Wolf Pack. Mediator had discovered that the Outside interest lay on him and to a lesser extent the Wolf Pack itself. He pulled out his Personal Digital Assistant and stared at the latest entry, which was a voice recording he got of a mercenary associate, without the latter's knowledge...

"Our client is highly interested in the subject known as the Mediator, and also to the legendary Wolf Pack. Our client fails to realise that this is the Zone, and its rife with old wives tales and little children's stories. I doubt that the Wolf Pack really exists, But the few goons and other low life trash that we have 'interviewed' seem quite convinced that they do."

The recording voice then suffers from a hacking cough, and then continues.

"But most of the clues and leads point to this guy named the Mediator. I hate treasure hunts and detective work, but the Client pays well, so I'll just have to keep my head down and get the job done. The sooner this contract is complete, the more likely I can leave this sorry shit hole behind forever."

Mediator frowned. A mercenary group after him is nothing new. but what is troubling is that it is someone or something from outside the Zone that is interested in him. Is it his former life coming after him? Impossible. He renounced his past life all those years ago when he crawled under the barbed wire of the Cordon. For all his family and his friends and associates from his past were concerned, he is dead.

Mediator fiddled a little with the scope of his assault rifle, still lost in thought.

The Wolves are ruthless, dangerous and a force to be reckoned with. they are hated and feared, especially by those who the Wolves prey on; Bandits, Mercenaries and Monolith. The other factions that are dominant in the Zone were, however, slow to applaud or even accept the actions and ideals that the Wolves stood for. As Mediator he had to sweet talk both the Freedom and Duty faction out of any action to be undertaken against the Wolf Pack, at the behest of the Loners, who amongst themselves viewed the Wolf Pack as their guardians. Faction war politics kept them from declaring open support for the Wolf Pack, otherwise, the Bandits and Mercenaries would be truly aggressive towards the Loners themselves.

As Mediator, he understood the intrigues of Zone politics all to well.

The question that bothered him the most was: If the mercenaries ever caught him, should he sell out the Wolves for his own survival? He and the Wolves were too well entwined. They followed the same ideology of Balance in the Zone, and both owed their lives to the other.

Mediator reflected that he didn't know how the Wolves would react when he contacted them with the news that there was a mercenary group after them. All the Wolves had to do was either move to a different part of the Zone, or retreat into obscurity. Secrecy was their shield. and it unfortunately wasn't a shield that he personally had access to. Would they even contemplate of taking measures to protect their unofficial public representative? The idea was laughable. The Wolves only protect their own.

It was one of those rare cases that he didn't know what to do. Mediator felt he was in need of company, and therefore gathered his things and prepared for the long journey towards the Cordon and surrounding area.

Mediator checked his rucksack, he had plenty of food, ammunition for his pistols and assault rifle but was a little low on medical equipment.

It was ill advised to go on a long journey without sufficient medical equipment in the Zone, mutants, hostile bandits and such were the least dangerous aspects of travel.

He didn't want to use a secret stash of his, so he felt that he could call in a favour. A few hours walk from his current location was a place where Loners usually came to share the latest gossip, relax and trade. Taking a deep breath, and putting the rucksack on his shoulders, and keeping his assault rifle within easy reach he set off, at a leisurely pace.

While walking, Mediator kept going over his previous thoughts and replayed the voice recording of the mercenary associate a few times. it was obvious beyond doubt that this guy didn't belong in the Zone.

"Most leads and clues point to the guy known as the Mediator" he repeated to himself. He found that most intriguing aspect of all. Why and what was it that linked him to the Wolf Pack anyway? It was absurd!

Mediator stopped, he realised that he'd shouted the last word aloud and that he heard the unmistakable grunts and moans of a zombie coming from tall bushes.

This zombie was one who had degraded so much that he had lost the skill of using firearms. Its hunched form emerged from the gloom, its hand out stretched as it stumbled

towards Mediator, moaning and groaning unintelligible gibberish.

Mediator's face was a mask. he quickly looked around and spotted a long thin metal bar. Handy, he thought. He placed his rucksack on one arm, testing its weight, and he judged it too light to use. he placed it on the ground. Then he did something completely unthinkable in the Zone! He also placed his assault rifle on the ground as well! The zombie was closing the distance fast now, having cleared the bushes.

Mediator adopted a a low stance with arms in front, chest level. The zombie was closing the distance, going slightly faster. Mediator slapped the zombie's hand aside and punched it full force on the chin. The zombie recoiled, a moan escaped that Mediator took for a gasp of surprise. Mediator crashed the side of his hand across the zombie's face, side stepped and kicked the side of it's knee. Knees are meant only to bend in one direction.

A heavy blow from the side can cause serious damage...

The zombie's knee popped, and the foul creature dropped to the ground with a loud groan.

Mediator stepped back. The zombie was severely disabled now, its knee was too badly damaged to support it.

However, Mediator realised was this a proper human, he wouldn't be getting up after a strike like that. A zombie, being immune to physical pain, and having a degraded mental state that no longer recognizes self perseverance by hindering itself from doing certain actions; like getting back on its feet with a clear dislocated knee.

The zombie was getting back up, but a side trust kick to the forehead, made it go back down again.

Mediator picked up the metal bar, and proceeded to wallop every inch of the zombie that Mediator could reach. Crash. Bing. Thud. Crunch. Wallop. BING. Sweat pored from Mediator's face as he lost himself to frenzy. Die proper this time, filthy scum!

During the red haze that clouded his mind, Mediator became dimly aware of a second Stalker that took the bar from him when he felt completely exhausted. The Stalker, dressed in a black suit and festooned with weapons had haunting eyes, the colour of which Mediator couldn't place, somewhere between dark grey and icy blue.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Meddy, such violence on a zombie... but then again, it is a zombie, so I won't disapprove of your method too much."

"M...Mad Wolf..." was all that Mediator could manage.

Mad Wolf flashed a grin, and only a delusional person would think it was NOT an evil grin.

Mad Wolf twirled the metal bar in his gloved hands, and with surprising strength bended its end into a curve. With the other end, Mad Wolf staked the flailing zombie to the ground, effectively pinning it there.

"There, a good way of keeping a certain problem on one spot."

Mad Wolf pulled Mediator to his feet, and looked him up and down. Then he picked up Mediator's rucksack and assault rifle and handed it to him.

"I usually find you when you can no longer sort out the issues that bother you, those issues being bandits and the like and you usually BEG me, on your knees with your hands knotted together, that me and a certain pack deal with the issue," Mad Wolf said in a mocking tone.

Their heads were quite close and Mediator all but transfixed by those two deadly cold orbs that looked right through him.

"I never begged you for anything," Mediator said, bravery seeping back into him.

Mad Wolf leered.

"Beg is probably the wrong word, maybe... groveled?"

Mediator took a step backwards.

"Don't bandy words with me. I was hoping I could meet somebody from the pack and your here now, so lets talk shop."

"Fine. Wag that fine tongue of yours Meddy."

Mediator ignored that slur, and launched into how he got the PDA recording from the mercenary. He played the recording for Mad Wolf to hear, who listened without comment, and Mediator voiced his own suspicions and realizations.

Mad Wolf stood still for a moment and suddenly let out a low wolf howl followed by laughter.

"Is that why you shouted "absurd" a few moments ago?" Mad Wolf asked amid laughing.

"Yeah, well... How did you know that?" Mediator blurted out.

Mad Wolf twiddled his thumbs, a gesture that Mediator knew that signified that Mad Wolf was enjoying himself.

"Easy. I heard. It wasn't that hard to miss really."

Mediator clenched his hands into fists. Mad Wolf's hand dropped to a pistol holster on his belt having seen Mediator's reaction.

"Are you following me?" Mediator snarled.

"Not out of my own free choice I assure you. The Pack wanted me to keep my eye on you, for reasons unknown as of now. Believe me, it gives me no joy having to guard your scrawny ass from the perils of the Zone. I've got better things to do."

Mad Wolf held Mediator's gaze for a moment.

"But don't fret Meddy. I'll let them know of outside interest in us and you. You better go to ground, thats my advice." Mad Wolf turned and walked away from Mediator. "Of course, what you do with my advice is your choice. You can stick it, or accept it. Catch ya later, Meda-Gator!"

Mad Wolf disappeared through the bushes, diabolical laughter echoing after him.

Mediator watched him go and sighed, unsure whether he hated or despised Mad Wolf.

He shouldered his rucksack and gave the zombie a fleeting glance.

The creature was immobilized; no matter how hard it tried, it couldn't free itself from the metal bar that pinned it to the ground.

It's groans and mutterings was ever increasing in pitch, but with a loud boom from Mediator's assault rifle the noise ceased altogether.

"Now I have no trouble believing what the Pack did to a bunch of self styled vampire Stalkers," Mediator muttered to himself.

Rostok was still half a day's walk away.

Midday

Rostok, located north of the Cordon and Garbage

It is considered to be the most secure area of the Zone, but that was public opinion. Mediator himself possessed an underground lair with an anomaly field above ground.

Rostok holds the 100 Rads bar, a popular venue among Stalkers, the headquarters of the Duty faction, Duty, believes the Zone is a place that must be destroyed, for it represents a grave danger to mankind. They follow a military style command structure.

In Rostok is also the Arena, where Stalkers can make and lose money by being a combatant in combat to the death or betting on the outcome.

At the barrier of Rostok, Mediator identified himself, paid an entrance fee and strolled to

the 100 Rads bar, where he hoped to meet some of his contacts.

Two years ago, there were no women in the Zone. But as time went on, the spouses, mother's sisters and daughters followed their Stalker husbands, sons, brothers or fathers to the Zone. The first women arrived in the Zone December 2012. They were called the "Christmas Presents", due to their coincidental arrival with the annual feast day.

The Presents had a very rough introduction to the Zone. Aside from the daily perils of mutants, anomalies and hostile Stalkers, they were faced with sexism because of them being in a society up until that point was dominated by male doctrine. they were cheated out of their money, many Stalkers deprived of a sex life gave in to violent sexual urges.

The women endured, banding together for mutual protection. And as their numbers grew they formed their own faction and battled the other Stalkers for equal status. This faction became known as the Amazons.

A civil war fought on grounds of sexism and equality threatened to engulf the Zone.

Male Stalkers grudgingly relented, and started to slowly accept women as Stalkers in the early months of 2013. However all sorts of women came to the Zone like their male counterparts; from single mothers, criminals, young, old, rich, poor, some driven by the wish of finding their loved ones, or because they heard fanciful tales of the Zone itself.

There were extremists on both sides. Ultra Feministic women wanted to establish a new society with the female stalker being higher than the male Stalker.

The extremist males simply wanted no women in the Zone, full stop.

Both sides were willing to fight until the bitter end.

As it was, it was another faction war being fought in the Zone. Eventually both sides, the Extremist Amazons and the Brutuses, as the male extremists were known, were willing to enter into talks, and that was where Mediator came in.

The leader of the Brutuses was tired of the conflict, but felt pressured and fearful that the Amazons would not listen to reason. So he gave Mediator to understand that he was willing to accept a ceasefire and eventually (due to Mediator's sly suggestion) accept women stalkers. If the Amazons were unwilling to accept, he would hunt them all down and destroy them.

The Amazon leader, Edna, was extremely feministic in her views and her terms were near unrealistic. Mediator simply gave her to understand that if she didn't accept the reality of the situation, that female stalkers would never be recognized as a higher breed of Stalker, then the only way from that point would have been bloodshed. Pointless, relentless brutal bloodshed, Mediator added.

Mediator influenced both leaders to sit down and sort their differences, under the fictional threat that both sides held over the other.

From that ceasefire onwards, women Stalker fully and neatly integrated into the society of the Zone, with women stalkers becoming traders, crafters, women stalkers joined the many factions in the Zone except Monolith and the Military. but also formed their own groups, amongst themselves but also with male Stalkers mixed in. Some women also made their money by other means, such as couriers and business contacts outside the Zone.

It was even rumored that brothels came into existence in the Zone.

Mediator enjoyed much respect from many stalkers, due to his efforts and his reputation surged high. One Stalker, who went by the name of Nadia, developed a special relationship with Mediator.

100 Rads Bar was as usual busy. At the entrance, Mediator asked if he could come in, and the bouncer replied with, 'of course you can, don't stand there!'

In the years 100 Rads Bar underwent a refurbishment, with a bigger bar area, with two rather pretty bar maids serving customers. There was a strict policy of treating the barmaids with respect, or draw the ire of Barkeep himself.

Mediator made his way through the crowd, and went to the counter.

Barkeep greeted him cordially, and he gave Mediator a can of soda, flashed a grin and under his breath said: "on the house."

Mediator smiled his thanks, and went in search of a comfortable spot.

As he sat down he felt a lovely hand touch his shoulder, and heard the honey sweet voice of Nadia in his ear, "Mediator."

Mediator turned and found himself face to face with Nadia, a luscious woman of striking beauty and long dark brown hair. Her lips briefly brushed over his own lips.

Mediator was transfixed for a moment before he reverted to his business-as-usual demeanor.

Nadia stared at him for a moment with a little smile playing on her lips.

"So," she said, "You finally show yourself after weeks into the unknown, you walk back in here like you left an hour ago." she said in a half amused half annoyed tone.

Mediator felt a smirk cross his face. "Weeks? That's odd, it felt like an hour!"

Nadia's head tilted back as she laughed.

"You funny man." she laughed, "what brings you here?"

Mediator indicated his head, and said: "I'm thinking too much. I need to talk with Andrei. Do you know where he is?"

Nadia jerked with her chin, which gave Mediator a quick peek at her wonderful jaw line.

"Cordon I think, been there quite a while now."

Mediator took a drink from his soda, keeping his eyes on Nadia.

"Then I'm going to Cordon. After, of course I finish my drink, of course. Will you join me for dinner, Nadia?" Mediator offered his arm and Nadia took it. Mediator paid for a simple meal and he and Nadia spent their time discussing life in the Zone as well as swapping out tales, tall and short.

The next day.

Cordon,

Near Rookie Village

Mediator walked with purpose down the main road of the Cordon. This time he had his assault rifle in hand, as the Cordon swarmed with packs of mutant dogs, zombies, and bandits of low experience. Cordon also held its own anomaly fields, but they were considerably small yield, yet that didn't make them safe...

Cordon, Mediator reflected, was the first place all Stalkers came through. This is were everyone got their first taste of the Zone. And it was a unspoken rule, if you survived in the Cordon, you had a chance of surviving in the Zone. When he himself entered the Zone, Mediator knew that being in the Zone was meant for him. he has never regretted it since.

Slowly the area known as the Rookie VIllage came into view. Mediator stopped to look at it. He could make out a small group of Stalkers making their way back from what is called the Vehicle Station, a group of buildings that sometimes mutants or bandits make their home. Mediator crouched, and brought up his assault rifle and looked at the group through the rifle scope. He recognized Andrei, and he was walking at the head of what seemed to be a small group of Rookies. Andrei or as he was more commonly known as Veteran always welcomed the rookies with some basic Zone survival tips and tricks, spooked them out over one Zone legend or other and then sent them on their way. Andrei was a reasonable man, who felt compassionate towards newcomers and had a fondness for a hefty swig of vodka every now and again.

Mediator noticed movement and saw that the group was followed by a lone curious pseudo-dog. The mutant could be tailing them for an ambush or something else. Mediator steadied the rifle, flicked fire mode to single, inhaled and exhaled...

When his lungs were completely empty he squeezed his finger around the trigger.

The rifle bucked, and the gun shot echoed across the landscape.

A spilt second later, the pseudo-dog's head vanished in a red spray and its body was pitched sideways with all the grace of a of a bag of bones losing all its support.

Sniping was a filthy business in Mediator's opinion. But he wanted to make himself known to Andrei, so what better way?

Mediator stood up and waved. There was a gunshot and several meters in front of him the the ground erupted with the impacting of shotgun pellets!

Oh FUCK!

Mediator dropped to the ground again and raised the rifle scope to his eye, mouth set in a snarl and his finger was already squeezing the trigger when he comprehended what he saw through the scope.

One of the Rookies had panicked and fired off a shotgun blast in Mediators direction. Andrei was shouting exuberantly at the kid. Mediator's heart rate slowed and as he rose to his feet he chuckled.

He turned on his radio, and soon heard Andrei calling to him.

"Mediator, Mediator, do you copy?"

"This Is Mediator, I copy."

"Sorry about that Mediator, Approach safely. Veteran out."

Mediator resumed walking towards the Rookie Village and soon caught up with Andrei and his rookie group. Andrei was wearing his custom Sunrise suit. the rookies were dressed in leather jackets and had rucksacks. One of them wore an apprehensive expression as he looked at Mediator, with a feeble attempt at hiding behind the others.

Veteran greeted Mediator cordially.

"Ah Mediator, good to see he missed you,"

Mediator grinned.

"Yeah fortunately, I was about to nail him back." Mediator spoke lightly and saw that the rookie had paled beyond white.

"Hey kid, it's okay, I understand your reaction and in fact I think you have good reflexes." Mediator assured him and the rookie relaxed a little.

The group started walking back to the Rookie Village. Mediator was introduced to the others: Ivan, Mikhail and Cobalt. Cobalt was the one who had tried to shoot Mediator.

"What sort of a name is Cobalt anyway?" Mediator asked.

Cobalt showed a necklace which was made of glass and was cobalt blue.

Cobalt proceeded to tell Mediator of its significance. it was a gift from his younger sister, who gave it to him before he left for the Zone, which he did to support his poor family.

Mediator lapsed under the spell of the abundant vodka supply.

The rest of the evening was spent, drinking, laughing and singing around the campfire in the Rookie Village.

Wolf Lair,

Undisclosed location in the Zone.

"AAAaaawwwoooo!" A Stalker clad in black gear cried.

Awooo was echoed by other similar dressed Stalkers.

"Welcome Wolves. The Balance of the Zone has been kind to us. We are strong and feared. Praise be to the Wolf Pack!" the first Stalker announced.

"Praise Be!" was echoed.

The group of clad in black Stalkers, also known as the Wolves stood in what appeared to be a large domed chamber. There was a fire lit and the Wolves stood around it, the flames dancing macabre shadows on their features. Each Wolf had an extensive array of Zone survival equipment on their person, as well as a huge variety in holstered firearms of all types. It was almost impossible to see where the shadows ended and the Wolves became their own. Their eyes blazed like the fire that was in front of them, their faces were masks of death.

"That is our formal business out of the way. I, Lone Wolf, declare our meeting in progress as of now. Your reports please, fellow Wolves." Lone Wolf looked around them all.

"With your permission, Lone Wolf?" A Wolf stepped forward.

"Go ahead Wolf Pike."

"Monolith and Mercenary activity remains high in Pripyat as do the zombie population in certain parts of the abandoned city. They seem both focused on gaining control of an old services building that I'm quite sure holds a former C-Con lab. Which one, I'm not sure. I pick of any straggler that presents himself to me." Wolf Pike's mouth curled into a grin at that.

Another Wolf Stalker, this one Black Wolf gave his report.

"Following our raid on the Skull base last year, Hind Wolf found out who the traders and suppliers of the Skulls were and passed that information on to me and my Cub.

"Together we hunted them down, kept tabs on their customer ring, extracted information where we could, and when the time was right, we struck in the approved fashion. I took a photo with my PDA."

Black Wolf hands Lone Wolf his PDA. Lone wolf looks at it and a small smile spreads on his lips.

"You have drawn inspiration from Mad Wolf I see?"

"Yes, Lone Wolf, I have."

Lone Wolf handed the PDA back.

Wolf Pike caught sight of the image on the main screen; it showed a dead body of some unfortunate wretch. On the floor beside him there was Aaawwwoooo written in the victim's blood.

"We identified three former Skulls contacts. They are no more."

"Good, Black Wolf, very good. Now I warn you against taking inspiration from Mad Wolf by leaving too many calling cards."

Lone Wolf turns to look at the other Wolves. "Mad Wolf does that for his own reasons, he is the only one who can draw the attention and thereby, in a weird way, away from the rest of us, allowing us to maintain the Balance of the Zone. Let Mad Wolf gain the attention, so that we can strike at our enemies. Carry on with your reports."

The other Wolves gave their reports. When dawn was casting first light of the next day, the Wolves retreated back from where they appeared; the shadows of the Zone.

Next Day

Rookie Village

Cordon

Exclusion Zone

Mediator woke. With groaning and with all his joints clicking he sat up. As he blinked the last images of his dream rolled by his mind's eye. Shadow figures, some with strangely familiar faces, others completely obscure.

Mediator got to his feet.

Dawn was breaking. Mediator rummaged in his rucksack and brought out a can of Tourists Delight. Cutting it open with his knife he ate, not out of enjoyment but rather to still the hunger within him.

He was in one of the ruined houses that made up the Rookie VIllage. It was one that was relatively intact. It had received some defensive properties, designed to deter mutants from ambushing sleeping stalkers. But it was no good for defending from a hostile stalker attack.

Mediator sniffed the air. Someone was preparing some... coffee?

Outside he saw Andrei the Veteran tending to a fire that held a pot.

"Morning Andrei, are you making coffee?"

Andrei looked up, smiled and poured a cup and held it out to Mediator.

"G'morning Med. Here you go."

Mediator took the cup and took a sip. Its bitter tang of the caffeine was a delight. Mediator drank slowly, enjoying the coffee. Mediator's pleasure of the coffee was not lost on Andrei.

"So, Med," Andrei began.

Mediator recognized Andrei's down to business tone.

"You come to visit the Cordon of all places, where shitty artifacts, have to deal with shitty anomalies, with shitty rookies," Andrei had dropped his voice at the mention of 'rookies'.

"With shitty bandits, and fucking shit headed border military patrol." Andrei finished with a noticeable rise in his otherwise composed voice.

"I was in need of company."

"Med, I know you better than that. You have reason, yes?"

Mediator sighed, as he recalled why he made the trek to the Cordon, and told Andrei, only half of it. That there was interest in him from outside the Zone. He mentioned nothing about that interest also lay on the Wolf Pack and not a breath of his encounter with Mad Wolf.

Andrei's eyes betrayed nothing but his actions when he handed Mediator some more coffee, Mediator felt that Andrei knew he didn't tell everything.

"You are bad liar, Med. But you lying no problem. You have own reasons."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you anyway."

Mediator made to stand up, but Andrei pulled him back down.

"There is something i want to..."

Andrei cast a glance around.

"There is something is wish to speak with you," Andrei repeated, "and only you."

Mediator raised his eyebrows.

"I've been in the Zone for long, long time. I earned good money, had many adventures, made good friends."

Mediator nodded.

I think now its time for me to crawl back under the wire and go back to the world outside the Zone."

Mediator stared at Andrei, incredulously. "Back to the Outside?"

Andrei nodded.

"Why?"

"I came to Zone for riches, for adventure, for all those. But mainly because I was a young stupid brat. Zone changed me for the better, made me a good man, and i have riches and had too many adventures than i dare count.."

"And I'm content. I want to go back. To enjoy a non-Zone life."

Understanding creeped in Mediator's mind. Life in the Zone after all, was made of choice, it was not compulsory. And not every Stalker could fully adapt to life in the Zone. Mediator had fully adapted to the Zone, but he saw now that his good friend Andrei had not.

"Before I go," Andrei said, but Mediator interrupted, "When are you going?"

Soon, when I have ensured that the new rookies are ready."

"You mean Cobalt and the others?"

"I do. May I suggest Med, now that your here, you'd do good to lay low, Mercenaries rarely go to the Cordon."

Mediator thought that Andrei was making a good point.

"So why not share some experience with the rookies while your here?"

"Only for you Andrei, would I even consider baby sitting some fucking rookies." Mediator said with a smile.

Andrei laughed as Cobalt rounded the corner.

"I heard that!" he said indignantly.

"Mediator is going to share some of his knowledge with you and the other boys. He feels that..." Andrei glanced at Mediator, who's expression shifted a little, "Ah... you benefit from his knowledge..."

Mediator gave Andrei a discreet elbow in the side as he stood up.

"Yes, I think you kids will."

45 Minutes later

Mediator stood fully kitted up as he watched Andrei giving instructions to Ivan, Mikhail and Cobalt. Mediator was with them on a little artifact hunt around the Cordon, not that Mediator would expect them to find anything lucrative, but the rookies would have plenty of such opportunity when they would venture out deeper into the Zone. It is for their learning Andrei had told him.

As they set off, Mediator found it fascinating that such an able and clever Stalker such as Andrei spend his time training new comers to survive in the Zone. When Mediator came, he had no such treatment, and had to learn everything the hard way.

For the next few hours they trudged the entire length and breath of the Zone, with them occasionally stopping so that Andrei pointed out certain things of interest, such as the body of a half decayed Stalker, a small field of anomalies, tracks of a wild dog pack and such others. It was surprising to Mediator that he just took all these things for granted, while they were of vital importance of learning for the Rookies, and that Andrei stopped and pointed them out. This made Mediator realise that there is an art to teaching as well.

While they were having a short break, Ivan told the group as he was keeping watch, he say a limping stalker not far away. Andrei joined ivan at his spot and peered through binoculars. Mediator joined them and looked at the stalker through his rifle scope. His finger was off the trigger.

"What you think Med?" Andrei asked.

"It could be one of us, and compassion in the Zone is rare enough. Lets help him."

Andrei nodded and motioned for the Rookies to get their stuff together.

As they cautiously made their way to the injured stalker who had now collapsed, Mediator felt a slight red nausea appear at the edge of his vision.

He shook his head and it cleared.

They reached the collapsed Stalker. Andrei directed Mikhail to go to him and examine him.

Mikhail hurried over and rolled the Stalker onto his back as Mediator was pushed to the ground by Cobalt.

Mediator crashed to the ground as Cobalt dropped next to him.

Gunfire erupted all around them, bullets threw up puffs of dust from impacting the ground

and bushes. As Mediator looked he saw that the injured stalker had some how recovered and and brought up a pistol and shot Mikhail point blank in the chest. The bullets tore out his back amid a red spray. Grinning with ill disguised satisfaction the injured Stalker sat up, pushed Mikhail's lifeless form off him and leveled the gun in Andrei's direction.

Mediator didn't hesitate. He flipped his rifle firing mode to fully automatic and let out a burst . The injured Stalker bypassed real injury and came to death as Mediators bullets blasted his chest open and half his face apart.

A scream beside him made him look around; Ivan was down, and Cobalt went scrambling to get him. Mediator threw out his hand and yanked him back just as a another torrent of bullets tore up the ground... and Ivan.

Cobalt screamed incoherently as Mediator hauled him behind some decent cover. Andrei was already there.

"Ambush!" he roared needlessly.

"No Fucking shit! Who?"

Mediator gave Cobalt a hard poke and shouted in his ear, "If you want to survive do as I tell you! Now ready that gun of yours and fire back!"

Mediator stuck out his rifle and fired in the direction he thought the attackers did the same in another direction and Cobalt continued to fumble his double barrel shotgun. The poor kid's face was green with shock.

The gunfire continued.

While Mediator rammed a new clip into his rifle, an AK 74, he recognized that the gunfire was reminiscent of weapons used by the military. Sure enough Mediator saw a camouflaged shape change position and Mediator gave him a free gift of bullets directly into his chest.

"Merry Christmas you bug-eyed motherfucker," Mediator snarled to himself. It was December anyway, so it was fitting he thought. The red haze came to his vision again briefly.

Cobalt had just finally gotten his shotgun loaded for a third burst, his face was now slightly grey.

Then they were rushed.

A soldier cracked his rifle butt into the side of Mediator's face, Mediator tried to stay conscious as he brought up his pistol at the soldier, but it was too much. All went red, then black.

One of the buildings of the Military checkpoint

Zone boundary

Cordon.

Grunts, screams, sounds of fists hitting faces and chests, loud demands.

Mediator woke, with a searing pain in his jaw. He slowly became aware that his hands were bound tight to the legs of a rickety wooden chair. then he became aware of two others tied up in chairs sitting next of him; a bruised and bloody Cobalt and Andrei. Andrei was in the middle. Mediator was to his left and Cobalt on Andrei's right. A figure in a military suit was hunched over Cobalt yelling in his face, hands grasping the poor kid's lapels of his torn leather jacket.

Mediator couldn't clearly see Cobalt's face but it seemed he was putting up a defiant defense as his tormenter was clearly frustrated, and seemed not to be getting any satisfactory progress made.

'Hey, vodka swilling bootlicker, leave the kid alone!"

Mediator felt his own mouth and voice working against his will!

The Figure came over and mediator saw he wore the insignia of a Sergeant.

"What?"

"You heard, you jumped up little private."

Again Mediator couldn't understand where these insults were coming from.

The Sergeant punched Mediator in the face.

Mediator toppled backwards in his chair. The impact he made with the ground forced all the air out of him.

"You call that a proper punch, you boot licking heterosexual phobe?" Mediator asked from the ground while he felt a new bruise on his cheek.

"Pick him up."

Mediator was hauled upright by two grim faced privates.

"You Mediator?" the Sergeant asked in a sudden calm deadly voice.

"No, I'm your Mama who's very disappointed in you."

Another punch.

"You Mediator?"

"You fucking deaf? I already told you!"

Another punch, this time to the side and another on the other side of Mediators face.

"Thats no way to treat your Mama!"

Finally a kick to the chest. Mediator felt all his ribs cracking and his head hit the floor. Stars burst into vision in front of his eyes.

"Stop! Stop, Mediator, he will completely fuck you up! It's not worth it!" Andrei blurted.

"Mediator was pulled upright again. The sergeant had his face in Mediators.

A puzzled look was on his face.

"I could have sworn..." he muttered softly.

The Sergeant went upright.

Mediator's vision was hazy now. He felt the room rocking a little. his hands grasped the legs of the chair in an effort to stabilize himself. he felt a series of sharp edges, revealing that the chair had cracked.

"Sir," he heard one of the privates say, "He is here."

A door opened and in walked a Stalker who was dressed in a blue Mercenary suit.

Mediator's heart stopped. He knew this man; it was the Mercenary stalker from who he had stolen the PDA and its recording. And on cue, the Mercenary had a fit of a hacking cough.

The Mercenary walked up to Mediator, barely sparing a glance for Cobalt and Andrei.

"Move aside," he intoned to the sergeant and privates.

"Has he been positively Identified?" The mercenary directed this to the sergeant.

"His identity has been confirmed by the guy in the middle sir. Both were part of the group we ambushed on your orders, sir."

"Good. Leave me. I want a word with him in private."

The sergeant looked as he was to protest but was quickly silenced by a look of the mercenary. He waved to the two privates and they followed him out of the room. The door closed with an ominous sound.

The Mercenary came closer to Mediator. His eyes travelled over Mediator's face as he pulled out a PDA and looked at it.

Mediator bit back the comment he longed to utter; you pinched a new one of someone else?

"You Know what it has cost to get a picture of you?" The Mercenary asked Mediator. he showed it to Mediator. "allot, both in cash and blood.

"But your worth more than this photo was priced as so I'll still make a generous profit."

Mediator didn't respond, but his mind was saying; you will make more money by selling mutated cow shit to the scientists of Yantar.

"Now I like giving people an option, and this is yours: tell me where I (cough) can find the Wolf Pack, or... you can think that for yourself."

The mercenary's voice was controlled, emotionless.

The red haze came back and a blinding headache burst into life in Mediator's brain.

"May I have some water please?" Mediator's voice sounded strange again. And through the read haze induced headache he saw the frightened expression on the bruised and bloody faces of Andrei and Cobalt.

He also saw a slight look of confusion on the mercenary's face as well.

Without a word, the mercenary lifted his water canteen up to Mediator's lips and let him drink.

"I can show you, but I'll need use of your radio." Again Mediator's vice sounded so strange to him.

Obediently, the mercenary held his radio dial to Mediators hand as he turned to a frequency, and then held the transmit key on the Mike.

"AAaawwwoooo! Den, Den, Cordon is where your stray Pack member is. Awwooh, Awwoooh."

The red haze and the head ache left Mediator. The Mercenary stumbled back, dropping his radio, shaking his head in dazed confusion, And Cobalt and Andrei's faces remained looking terrified.

One of the buildings of the Military checkpoint

Zone boundary

Cordon.

Two hours later

Mad Wolf Rising

Mediator had lapsed into some sort of trance. He was barely aware of Andrei and Cobalt speaking to him. He looked around the room endlessly as the red haze was pulsating on the corners of his vision. His ears were filled with chaotic noise that he recognized as the Voices of the Zone, that they seemed afraid, in disarray, instead of the low background drone he usually heard.

Two hours ago the mercenary had suddenly allowed Mediator to change the frequency and and say something in his radio mike. Then he had stumbled back, and shortly afterwards had left the room albeit coughing heavily.

The sergeant came into the room alone. He was gesticulating at the three Stalkers tied up in chairs with a pistol in his hand.

Mediator couldn't hear what he said. He saw Andrei and Cobalt in visible distress.

The Sergeant aimed his gun low and fired. Mediator saw Cobalt screaming, but he couldn't hear him. The red haze's pulsating intensified and it started to grow bigger threatening to fully take over his vision.

Mediator felt his mouth moving but didn't know if sound came out.

Then sound came back. Cobalts screaming filled his ears, Andrei was shouting and then there was another shot.

Time had stopped. Mediator saw Andrei's body tipping backwards, as a blood spray just dissipated behind his head. There was a sickening crash as Mediator saw his friend, Andrei, executed by a coward who beat people when they were tied to a chair, hit the floor.

Before Mediator could react, the sergeant then leveled his pistol and shot Cobalt through the chest. He too, the young man who went to the most dangerous place on planet Earth to provide an income for his poor family, who was loved dearly by his younger sister also had his life taken in a coward's spasm.

Mediator screamed in hate and grief.

Everything went slow now.

The sergeant now walked up to Mediator, his pistol now at his side. Every step he took seemed to take a decade. every swing of his arms seemed to last another decade.

Time returned to normal speed when he had reached Mediator and grabbed him by the hair and pulled his head back.

"What did you do?" the sergeant demanded.

"The Mercenary left in a bad fit of coughing and now the outpost is under sniper fire!"

They were face to face.

Mediator didn't say anything. This time sound stayed normal, as the red haze blotted out his vision. he heard the sergeant gasp in shock.

"Your... your eyes..." he stammered.

"What about my eyes?" Mediator said in that strange voice.

"they have turned...blue..."

"Muhahahahawwww... it is about fucking time."

Mediator kicked upwards and caught the sergeant in his groin. Mediator head butted him as he doubled over and they both fell on the floor. Mediator wiggled from under the heavy weight of the sergeant and began heavily straining and pulling on his binds.

The wooden chair groaned and groaned and finally gave way with one crack, and another. and another. it finally came apart in a terrible tearing noise that wood makes and it was the sweetest music to Mediator's ears.

Mediator slowly struggled to his feet, leaving large blood smears on the floor from cuts on his wrists from the rope that had tied him.

The sight and smell of his own blood rallied and steadied Mediator as a storm of gunfire erupted outside. HE stood, and felt great savage joy as HE now looked at the sergeant who also scrambled to his feet, bringing up his pistol to bear on HIM. It was his last great act in his pathetic life.

Sergeant Volkov had been stationed in the Cordon for five years now. He had been part of numerous patrols and military incursions into some areas of the Zone. The Zone fascinated him, yet also deeply repulsed him. Many captured Stalker have told him many stories of the Zone, some more fanciful than the next.

But nothing, nothing compared to this... thing, or man... (was it a man?) that was now looking at him. Nothing had prepared him either. Every fibre in his body now wished that he had never taken his post in the Cordon now. He scrambled to his feet, bringing his Fort pistol to bear on the Stalker that the mercenaries had wanted him to capture. He was well worth his while, the Mercenaries assured him, not only in money but also the Mercenaries would see if they could convince his commanding officer that Sergeant First class Volkov was well suited for a promotion. Volkov had been fully convinced. Now...

He wished he had not. Dearly so.

The stalker known as Mediator had struggled fiercely and then had broken the chair he was strapped to, like it was made of match sticks. He turned and as he did so he brought the wreckage of the wooden chair around in an overhead strike.

Wooden splinters and nails lacerated his hand and he dropped the pistol.

Next thing he was aware of was that wreckage was now on a collision course with his face.

The impact was horrible as he thought he lost sight in his left eye. Then he felt kicks, punches and the wreckage of the chair colliding into his body at every angle and place. He felt his ribs caving in. His pelvis cracked like a thunderous lightning strike. He felt that he left the ground only to return to it face first in a collection of other furniture. The assault stopped as he saw shadowy figures wielding a wide variety of weapons enter the room and address Mediator. Soon slowly everything went black.

The Wolves known as Fenix Wolf, Black Wolf and Shadow Wolf entered the room weapons ready. They were mildly surprised at what they saw; a Stalker with cold blue eyes brutally assaulting a Sergeant of the Cordon border Military. Two bodies were also there, one looked like he was a veteran Stalker, the other a typical rookie.

Black Wolf went out to call the other Wolves as Shadow and Fenix went over to the now kneeling stalker with the cold blue eyes.

"You called us?"

"I did." the blue eyed Stalker was looking morosely a the two dead bodies of the veteran and the rookie.

"They were my friends, and that cowardly bastard executed them."

"We feel your pain, but we are not sure as to who you really are."

"Isn't it obvious, my fellow Wolves?" a new voice said.

All turned and saw Lone Wolf, flanked by Wolf Pike, and all the other Wolves; Death-specter Wolf, Hind Wolf and Snow Wolf standing behind them.

"Mad Wolf has risen again, Or you still wished to be called Mediator?" Lone Wolf said.

"Mediator is no more. I am Mad Wolf now, now and forever."

And Mad Wolf smiled slightly for these were his family. They bandaged his injuries on his face and arms. They gave him pain killers to deal with the headache and cracked ribs in his chest.

They helped him bury his friends Cobalt and Andrei. And they welcomed his return; Mad Wolf now forever shed his Mediator identity for it was now too dangerous to be used. And together with his pack, they turned North, back to the shadows of the Zone.

Epilogue

A month later, a little girl brought in a parcel to her poor family's home. The parcel contained a small necklace made of cobalt blue, and also contained more than enough money so that her family would never face hardship again.


End file.
